Without a Mask
by Linwe-Amari
Summary: What if a young Jedi was not reunited with a young Senator and the Jedi was turned sooner? What if Order 66 came earlier? What if that 'Senator' didn't reappear until it seemed to be too late? What if, instead of things getting better, they were worse?
1. Prologue

_**Without a Mask**_

_(((Rewritten and Revised Version)))_

**Prologue:**

One would think that if you were the most feared man in the galaxy, you would not only have power over every single being in it, but you would have power over yourself.

He was an exception.

On the outside, he was calm and collected, most of the time, that is. The only time in which he wasn't calm and collected was when he lashed out at someone or at himself even…

On the inside, he was a mess. By the time he was nine years old, he'd already seen far too much to retain innocence. He eventually became a good-hearted young man, yes, but not innocent. Never innocent. Never again. Now, he was no longer that young man with a heart of gold that he had once held.

Just before he had turned, he'd been in utter turmoil, both in mind and soul. But now, he was indifferent, his words as cold as the biting wind of an arctic tundra. And those pale blue eyes that had once held such warmth and joy turned steely and cold. His boyhood was long gone.

As he stood on the command deck, he gazed out of the large window that stretched from one side of the Star Dreadnought to the other. The constantly winking stars seemed to be mocking him. Their brightness contrasted greatly with their swirling black background, making them appear brighter.

Dantooine was in full view. It supported beings that were part of the rebellion. He hoped that in crushing this small base that he would be that much closer to his goal.

He hoped one day to relieve himself of his master. You'd think that people would fear their emperor more than their emperor's right hand, but this wasn't the case. The Emperor was a scheming man, very twisted and good at acting as if he was doing all that he did for the greater good. What his master didn't know what that his apprentice was just as good at scheming as he was.

Darth Vader, Admiral of the Galactic Fleet, was a patient man, he could wait, and he would wait as long as it took…


	2. Satisfaction

**STAR WARS**

**EPISODE III**

**WITHOUT A MASK**

_**War! The galaxy is in utter turmoil without the Jedi pillars that had once held up its base. The only remnants of the Old Republic are the tightly pulled threads of the Rebellion that are almost near their breaking point.**_

_**The Emperor, Palpatine, meanwhile, lives a life of luxury on the city planet of what was once Coruscant, now Imperial city, where he is still forging the beginnings of the empire with his apprentice, Darth Vader.**_

_**Vader and his battalion of storm troopers head toward the planet of Dantooine where it has been confirmed that there is a rebel base. As they approach, Vader gazes at the planet that will turn the war around in his favor… **_

**Chapter I:**

**Satisfaction**

Darth Vader didn't mind Dantooine. In fact, he rather liked it. The endless savannas and the occasional cool breeze reminded him of Naboo. The only difference between the two planets was the fact that Dantooine was almost completely undeveloped. There were no geographical features marring its surface for the most part. It was open, wild, _free_. This is exactly what made it so appealing to Vader.

Naboo was also one of his favorite locations, but there was really no way he could show his face there. It just wouldn't be the same as it had once been. Everyone would know exactly who he was.

_There's no point in reminiscing in the past. Things will never be the way they were, and that's the way I want it._

Vader took a deep breath and put on a determined mask. Not a real mask, no, but no matter where he went, he had on some type of "mask." Most of the time his mask was indifferent, but occasionally, he put on an angry mask, or an annoyed mask. No matter what, a mask was present.

He didn't know when it all began. All he knew was that by the time he had left the Order, he was constantly wearing one of his multiple masks. It's kind of like making friends with someone. You sort of have a general idea of when you crossed the bridge between acquaintanceship and friendship, but you don't know exactly when, why or how. It was a weird feeling, but a feeling nonetheless.

Vader looked over the vast plains of Dantooine out in front of him and took a deep breath. He was masking his force presence, in case there was a Jedi in his midst. The Executor, Vader's 19-kilometer-long Star Dreadnought, was in the Dantooine's orbit, but on the other side of the planet. This was to secure the Alliance's ignorance of their enemy's presence.

From the _Executor_, Vader road his swoop bike to a spot about five hundred meters away from the edge of the outermost force field that was protecting the base. The bike would not be seen if someone just happened to look out over the plain. The grass blades were about three meters tall. No one would know that he was there until it was far too late to do anything. Vader smirked to himself as he pulled a comlink from his bulky utility belt.

"Need I remind you once again, Commander, of the plans that I am just about to set in motion?"

"No, sir," came the voice of Jango Fett, or, more specifically, one of his many clones. "We will be awaiting further orders from you once all of the force fields are down."

"Good," was Vader's only reply.

Vader began to make his way toward the first, and weakest, force field. Not to say that it _was _weak, but it was the weakest of the five that protected the entire area of the fairly vast base, like half of a very large bubble sitting over top it. The strongest of the force fields was the innermost. And they were all invisible until you touched one, but Vader was not about to experiment.

Vader, instead of wearing his usual black attire, was sporting tan-colored clothes to blend with the tall grass of the savannah. He needn't worry about being detected, there were no watch towers, and apart from the force field protecting them, there was no alarm system to warn the rebels of their presence that could be triggered automatically. The alarm had to bet set off manually by the rebels if an unwanted presence was detected. The reason for all of this, Vader knew, was the want of being discreet.

After making his way through the tall grass by foot for a ways, Vader could make out the base's force field control center in front him. It was not elevated for the same reason that there was no watch tower. Keeping as low to the ground as possible was their best option, which was why _this _base was located underground. That's right, _underground_. He could feel it. There were people below him. They all had no idea.

Vader suddenly stopped, for he felt the presence of two rebellion soldiers standing guard at the door of the control unit when he was about ten meters away. He ventured closer as quietly as humanly possible. He felt one of them tense up as Vader approached, now at the three meter mark. Vader knew that the soldier was definitely not aware of his presence, but he could probably tell that something was off.

He simply reached out into the force and used it to snap their necks. There were two very distinct thumps of bodies hitting the ground. It was a quick and fairly painless death. Vader began to move again until he was parallel with the side of the building. Vader could sense two men left, one inside of the small building and…

"Freeze!"

…one just to his left that had just rounded the corner of the back of the building. Vader clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

Without turning to the man beside him, he, again, reached out with the force and the man suffered the same fate as his mates with a sickening crack.

Vader picked up the lifeless man and quietly made his way around to the front of the building. He put the man down onto the ground about two meters from the door of the control center. He swiftly pulled out a blaster and shot the already dead man, then hid just around the corner of the building, making sure he had full view of the door. He got the reaction that he wanted. Three seconds later, the other man threw the door open, and once he was within range, Vader shot him in the back of the head twice. The man fell, face down, on top his partner. The base would not be alerted that they were about to be invaded.

Vader smirked to himself, then turned to the building and slipped inside, the door hissing closed behind him. He strode over to the controls and sat in a chair that was still warm from body heat. Sitting forward, he ran his flesh hands over the multicolored flashing and glowing buttons.

He distinctly remembered when he's nearly lost most of his right arm in battle with Count Dooku just a few years before. He could also remember the satisfaction in not only slicing off both Dooku's hands, but his head as well in return. That was not even a month ago. The brute deserved to die.

Vader furrowed his brow as his mind wandered to another brute that _also _deserved to die. He imagined what it would feel like to finally be rid of that spineless excuse of a man. He was all talk and almost no action. He was haughtily arrogant until he was at the wrong end of a lightsaber, and then he begged for his life, just like any other man that had ever existed. He'd seen it in action. He recalled to his mind, Mace Windu. He'd had Palpatine cornered and cowering.

_Focus_, he ordered himself. He would have his chance, but now wasn't the time to mull it over.

Darth Vader swept his gaze over the large panel in front of him. He had to admit that it would be difficult. The rebels were crafty but _he_ was Lord Vader. He was the chosen one, and he was crafty as well.

The Sith Lord noticed that the symbols were not Nubian, as they usually were.

In fact, the force field seemed to him to be Gungan technology which was unusual to him, but not at all surprising. It was a well known fact that the Naboo were against Imperial rule, and though it appeared that the Gungans were for it, Vader knew very well that they were not.

Vader also knew that he would not easily, nor quickly figure out the code, and an excess of time was _not _something that he possessed. There were millions, maybe even _billions _of possibilities of their arrangement.

He had, of course, been expecting this. Vader would not use the code to get in. He had a plan already laid out that would be _much_ easier.

Carefully feeling the underside of the panel he found what he was looking for. It was the panic button. If the guard had pushed it before he got in… well, Vader had had a plan for that, but fortunately for the Sith, his Plan A had worked out nicely… so far.

And so a precaution that was supposed to keep the rebel base safe suddenly became Vader's personal invitation to waltz right in and destroy it. _Utterly and completely._

* * *

With the dead rebel guards hidden in the tall grass, far from where they would easily be found, and his troops slowly advancing to the very edge of the force field, Vader stood in the force field control center, his nimble fingers working the wires of the underside of the panel. He was hoping that this would work. He was sure that he could manually take care of the first four shields, but the fifth one would have to involve more work.

He could sense exactly where his troopers were. They were slowly approaching the base as Vader continued.

Not five minutes later, the clones stopped. Vader had successfully deactivated the four force fields by then. It was time. His hand flew up and punched the panic button beneath the table. Immediately, there was a voice over the communication system.

"Is there a problem Lieutenant Berge?" It was an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, I was knocked unconscious and I think that the innermost force field is down. I can't seem to turn it on because the controls are completely beyond repair," Vader lied smoothly. Well, after he'd completely dismantled the panel and basically hotwired it to turn the fields off (except to get the opposite of the usually desired effect of hotwiring something), it would at least _appear _to be completely beyond repair.

"According to what I'm seeing here," replied the man on the other line, "the field is fine. Are you sure it's down?"

"Completely," Vader assured him confidently, but added a worried edge for a positive affect. "The readings you're getting could have been tampered with. This must be an inside job."

The man seemed hesitant. "I don't know, sir. Besides, we have the other four force fields for protection."

Growling in annoyance on the inside, Vader reached out to the man with whom he was conversing and said, "On second thought, you think that I may be right," he said, hoping that the man was a weak-minded as he seemed.

"On second thought, I think that you may be right," the man relayed back. Vader grinned with—only momentarily—unmasked satisfaction.

"You'll fix the problem immediately."

"I'll fix the problem immediately."

It took less than five seconds. Vader felt the last force field disappear. He gave his commander the order to move in. His troopers began to make their way towards the now utterlyunguarded rebel base entrance, their presence still, apparently, unknown.

This pleased Vader to such an extent, that he very nearly up and stormed the base himself, right then, but in doing so, his carefully planned course of action would be ruined, so he remained where he was.

"Things are back to normal," he told the man on the other side of the line. The force field controls in this unit will need to be replaced completely. I'm sure that you can take care of it for me." It was phrased like a question, but Vader's intonation made it clear that it was no question.

"Yes Captain, and if I may ask, are you quite alright? Your voice sounds very… odd."

"I'm fine. It may be the state of the control unit that is causing interference."

The man accepted this. "The unit will need to be fixed. I'll send someone out right now. I'll also let the Captain know what has happened. He'll more than likely gather all of the men into the briefing hall for questioning."

"That will do." _Perfectly_, Vader added as an afterthought.

* * *

Padmé Amidala sat in silence in her office on Dantooine. She sighed. This was not a cheerful meeting. Not cheerful at all. There were life-size holos of Imperial Senate members, also in league with the Alliance, before her, who were located at different rebel bases spread all across the galaxy.

"We need to discuss ideas on how to prevent this happening again," said Mon Mothma, loudly, confidently, but just under the surface, Padmé could see her quivering with fear. They were all afraid, yes, even she. None of them had the faintest idea how to resolve the problem that was consuming the galaxy.

That problem just happened to be the Emperor and his apprentice, Vader. They were destroying base after base after base and soon there would be nothing left of the Republic but a few shards of broken glass, swept up into a dust pan and thrown away into the garbage. The Empire was oppressing the entire galaxy, and no one cared. Padmé wanted to scream out in anger. They _did not know_! They didn't know what was happening and what the result would be in the end. There was a very good chance that the Republic would never be redeemed if this continued on any longer.

Padmé knew what had to be done to preserve the rebel alliance. No one would like it, but she believed that it would save them all.

"This Alliance needs to go completely underground."

Mon Mothma looked at Padmé, shocked and angry.

"Never! It would be like giving up!"

"No it wouldn't be," Padmé replied, standing abruptly. "We need time to heal ourselves before we can even _think _of trying to heal the Republic! We're no good to the galaxy weakened or _dead_! We have to take the time to gather the loose strings and tie them, and we need to rekindle our numbers. There are so few of us now. We need the Emperor to think that he's finished us off! That way, we have a chance at a surprise attack. If we succeed, we may never have to worry about Emperor Palpatine _ever_ again."

The young former Senator looked around at her peers for reassurance. Most of them were smiling or nodding. Mon Mothma was now smiling warmly at Padmé, despite the gruesome circumstance.

"I think," she said in a steady voice, "that I agree with you, Padmé Amidala. What exactly do you have in mind?"

* * *

Vader and his storm troopers now stood around the entrance to the base. The man who had been sent to fix the control unit was killed on sight. From the outside, the entrance appeared to be a manhole leading down to a sewer, but in actuality, it led down to the base's entrance hall. One by one, the troopers began to descend the latter. The first of his men that got to the bottom took out any guards or droids that were standing in their way, and then proceeded to seal off all emergency exits. There was going to be no escape. The Rebels were trapped. Trapped like flies in his web. Vader gave the signal to one of his men, and all power in the base was gone. All of the lights went out.

* * *

"I think that if we can manage this, then we can defeat the Galac—" but Padmé never finished her sentence, for the holos were suddenly gone and all the lights in her office were extinguished, casting a very bleak blackness throughout the room. She gasped in alarm.

Quickly jumping from her seat, Padmé went to her door and peeked her head out. There were shouts from down the hall. Her eyes widened. She quickly ran to her desk and pulled out a blaster, then, in the very dim light of the hallway, crept along towards an emergency exit that was opposite the main entrance. Perhaps if she could head in the opposite direction of the shouts, she could get away.

Padmé then mentally slapped herself. What if someone needed her help? She couldn't leave them behind.

There were no sirens blaring, clearly announcing that they had unwelcome visitors, but there were the shouts of pain and of war entering Padmé's ears vaguely beneath the very obnoxious pounding of her own heart in her head.

Her shoes were too noisy, she acknowledged, so she abandoned them and continued on, her skirts swirling about her feet soundlessly. Though she was on high alert, there was no possible way that Padmé would have heard the man walking up behind her in time to defend herself properly.

In hearing his breathing a second before he reached out, she turned and fired her blaster at the figure, but there was no cry of pain or the sound of a blaster bolt melting the flesh off of bone. Instead, the bolt hit the ceiling just above Padmé. She gasped in seeing the red lightsaber, and was even more horrified to see who was holding it.

In the red glow of the evil weapon, it was hard to make out his features, but she saw the distinct height, the build and the scar that she knew all too well from the holonet. It was Lord Vader.

"Not a step further," Padmé threatened meaninglessly, lifting her blaster between herself and the mysterious Sith Lord. It did not make her feel any safer, but it made her feel stronger.

Vader laughed. "What is stopping me, Senator? All of your men are dead as well as your guards. Now, calculate with me what that means. It is my choice whether you live or die, isn't it?" He smirked. Padmé glared; disgusted by the man before her who would have been handsome if not for the evil that radiated from his very pores.

"The very _core _of you, Vader, is _hallow_," she whispered fiercely.

Vader chuckled. "I won't deny it," he replied, his voice full of laughter. As if he thought is was funny that he had no heart, figuratively speaking, of course.

Sickened, Padmé's trigger finger twitched, and this did not get by Vader as he took a step forward. With a flick of his wrist, the blaster was ripped from her grasp and dashed up against the wall. She stumbled back a bit, shaken, but refused to let her fear of him show.

It was only when Vader began to advance on her again that she realized that the only reason she hadn't fallen was because she could no longer move. Vader was using the Force to keep her feet planted where they were.

Padmé could feel the heat from his blade as he raised it level with her face. She glared as lethally as she possibly could as he put it away, only momentarily, and reached around her to bind her wrists with a pair of force-resistant cuffs that would normally be used on Jedi, but with her as a captive, he didn't want to risk the chance of her being rescued by one of those vermin.

Against her will, Padmé walked down the hallway with Vader, his lightsaber at her throat. It was close enough for her to feel the overwhelming heat, but not close enough to singe her skin.

He knew exactly who she was, and this was all the more motivation for him to keep her alive at all costs. It had been well over ten years since they'd last see each other face to face, and she didn't recognize him, but he recognized her. As they approached the entrance hall, Padmé could smell the blood. She knew if she saw any of the bodies, she would throw up. So she made a resolution not to look at them, but instead, straight ahead.

Vader led her over to the manhole that led up above ground. When they finally reached it, Vader strapped a harness around Padmé and attached the wires that would lift her to the top. He could have carried her up, but there was just no dignity what-so-ever in that; for Padmé, that is. Vader followed directly after her, and all of his men, having set up explosives, began to file out after him. When he got to the top, Padmé was already being unstrapped. As soon as Padmé was free of the harness, Vader was behind her and had his saber to her neck once more. Vader, Padmé, and his men all put a good distance between themselves and any of the entrances to the base.

"Now watch this, Senator," he whispered in her ear. They were very close to the force field control center now, facing the underground base. Vader nodded to one of his men and the trooper activated the explosives.

The explosion was very nearly immediate. The flames shot up from every entrance, one by one. First the main, then the emergency exits. It was like fireworks, but cooler. Padmé, however, did _not_ enjoy it. She was absolutely horrified. All of those people, her allies, were now dead not if they weren't before. That was _hundreds_ of people. Padmé could have just cried right there, but in front of Vader? Padmé decided to pass on that one.

Instead, she plastered on a stony expression and clenched her jaw, not responding to Vader's taunts. He would not get anything out of her. Not then.

"Well," Vader said as the flames died down a bit and smoke began to barrel from the holes in the ground, "that was quite a show, but I think now, that our job is done here, we should leave." Padmé narrowed her eyes, though Vader couldn't see it.

"Move out!" Vader shouted so his men could all hear. As the clones began make their way back to the transports that had brought them here, ahead of them both, Vader got a firm grasp on Padmé's right forearm and, only then, he extinguished his saber.

"Let's go for a walk, Senator."

Padmé wondered why Vader kept calling her that. _'Senator.'_ Surely he knew that she no longer held that title. Was it merely to taunt her?

For most of the way back, Padmé said nothing. Padmé rode back to the _Executor_, with Vader on his swoop bike. When they neared the Star Dreadnought, though, Vader was almost surprised to hear her speak.

"What's going to happen?" she questioned. Vader looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

"That depends."

"On _what_ exactly?"

"You'll see. The Emperor wishes to see you."

"He's no _emperor_. He's a dictator. A _totalitarian_. I _hate _him… And _you're _no better." Padmé hissed.

Vader said nothing to this. He merely clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on Padmé's arm, leading her onto the _Executor_.

* * *

The _Executor _landed on Imperial Center, formerly Coruscant, a few days after departing Dantooine. Even at light speed, it took a good amount of time to get from the Outer Rim to the Core Worlds.

Vader had kept Padmé in a cell made up of some of the strongest metals in the galaxy. The walls of her cell were shiny and silver in color. The only source of light was a dim fixture on the high ceiling. The area of the cell was only three by three square meters, but the ceiling was about six meters off of the floor.

While captive in the cell, the only life form Padmé saw was the trooper who delivered her food. For all she knew, she was seeing a different trooper every day. She was allowed to bathe once every day, but other than that and meal times, she had nothing to do to pass the time.

She'd not seen Vader since he left her in her cell after lifting off from Dantooine. Padmé had been expecting him to show up anytime during the third day in hyperspace, so it was not a surprise to her when he did that evening.

When he entered the cell, Padmé looked up at him from her reclining position on the bench attached to the wall with two chains supporting it on either side. She again, took in his height. He towered over her by many inches. His hair was midway between brown and blond, long, but not touching his shoulders. His eyes were a fare blue. A pink scar running down the right side of his face was the only obscuration present on his features. Padmé felt as if something was different about him. The way he looked at her made her uncomfortable, but she made sure to give no sign that this was so.

"Up," was all he said. Padmé complied, though rather hesitantly. She was still barefoot, but the smooth steely floors didn't hurt her feet. It was the ground once she got outside that she was worried about, but she could deal with the pain.

Padmé turned around when instructed to so that Vader could bind her wrists, but in her front this time, with the force-resistant cuffs.

"Are we on Coruscant?" Padmé asked as Vader guided her out of the cell by the arm.

"_Imperial Center_, but yes, we are." Vader replied.

Padmé's skirts were a bit long, and Vader was moving too quickly for her. In quite an ungraceful manner, she very nearly fell on her face and would have had Vader not tightened his grip on her arm and steadied her. She almost muttered a nearly inaudible 'thanks,' but thought better of it. After all, Padmé was not going to comply any more than she had to with him.

To prevent this little episode from happening again, she held up her skirts a bit. This made it much easier to keep up with his brisk pace.

The closer they grew to their destination, the tighter Vader's grip was becoming on Padmé's arm. It was getting to the point where she seriously though it was going to fall right off due to the lack of sensation in the appendage.

"Are you aware of how tightly you are holding onto my arm?" Padmé spat angrily. Vader's head snapped in her direction and he glared, but loosened his grip, but not _too _much, of course.

Vader basically dragged Padmé down the exit ramp of the _Executor_ and instantly, she knew exactly what part of Imperial Center she was on. They were at the Imperial Palace.

There was a time when Padmé was apart of the Imperial Senate. She'd managed to keep her involvement with the Resistance a secret for just about five months after the Empire was established. The Emperor had been able to prove her association with the Alliance, so she fled into hiding. First on Alderaan, but for only a few weeks, then Naboo for a month, and finally, Dantooine, where she'd been safely hidden for close to a year before being discovered, and for the last time. It was no accident that she'd been discovered on Dantooine. The ex-Senator had been hunted down.

While Padmé had been a member of the Imperial Senate, she'd lived in an apartment in the Imperial Palace's estate, as all of the other Senate members did. She was very familiar with her surroundings, but felt afraid at the very strong presence of evil that hung over the place. There was a big difference between Vader's presence, which was a bit disturbing, and Palpatine's, which was absolute and pure evil. Vader was evil, Padmé had no doubt of that, but Palpatine was something else. He was beyond sinister.

Padmé had a feeling that Palpatine knew exactly who was apart of his Senate and also in league with the Alliance, such as Bail Organa, one of the leaders. In fact, she had no doubt that he knew. Either that or he would soon find out. The only reason they weren't all dead was because he couldn't prove that they were traitors, and it wouldn't go over well if he killed them for, apparently, no reason.

Vader brought the young former Senator into the labyrinth that was the Imperial Palace. He quickly and confidently led her through the corridors to Palpatine's grandest throne room. Padmé recognized it by the exquisite double door entrance. The doors were made of what looked like solid gold, inlayed with jewels created naturally over millions of years on planets across the galaxy. Sadly, though, even their beauty could not diminish the sinister feeling that choked out all life and happiness from the air surrounding them.

Vader stopped her before the doors, which slowly began to open for them both. When they were both fully open to reveal Palpatine sitting at the far end of the throne room on an elevated plateau, Vader began to lead Padmé inside.

"Ah," Palpatine's voice boomed across the room, echoing off the high ceilings and far walls, only adding to his adverseness. "Lord Vader," he paused, but for less than a second, "and Senator Amidala. This is a surprise indeed." The man's severely deformed face twisted into a positively evil smile that made Padmé grimace as a shiver of disgust and disturbance ran down her spine. Padmé hoped that Palpatine hadn't noticed this, for they were still several meters away from each other, but it did not go unnoticed by Vader. He, however, showed no response.

"Quite, I'm sure," Padmé replied, almost defiantly. The evil incarnate's crooked smile only grew wider, if one could believe it. Vader squeezed her arm, silently telling her to 'shut it.'

When they reached the Emperor's throne, Vader kneeled and bowed his head, but Padmé stood with her head held high and looked down her nose at Palpatine. Vader swallowed hard at her defiant display, but the Emperor only continued to grin wickedly.

"Rise, Lord Vader," he commanded. Vader stood, squaring his shoulders and stretching to his full height.

The Emperor turned to Padmé. "How were the… _festivities_ on Dantooine? According to my apprentice, it was quite a show."

Padmé clenched her jaw in anger. "They were," she paused, looking at Vader out of the corner of her eye, "_unbelievable_," she finished darkly.

"Yes, quite unimaginable I would think."

Padmé said nothing to this, so Palpatine moved on.

"You have been absent for quite some time, Senator. I'd expected nothing less, of course. I knew that you would try to escape, but I would never have though that you would _kill_ Governor Tarkin in the process. So desperate, were you, to escape your fate?"

Padmé was seething. He acted as if she had selfishly tried to save her own skin, but she was trying to stay alive to help keep the _rebellion_ alive. The ex-Senator gritted her teeth. She may have _hated_ Governor Tarkin, but she hadn't wanted to kill him. He tried to stop her, so she stopped _him_.

"But, you see, Senator, you never _truly _escaped us."

Padmé was disgusted. She had been stalked the whole time?

"I was constantly aware of your presence, as was Lord Vader." Padmé felt the man standing beside her stiffen when Palpatine revealed this to her. "You were first on Alderaan, next you stayed on Naboo, then Dantooine. I knew that eventually, you would lead us to one of your _Alliance's _little… _hideouts_."

It was suddenly as if the wind got knocked out of her. She had _what_?

Palpatine began to grin maliciously at Padmé in seeing the realization of what she had done on her face. _She_ had led the Emperor and his lapdog to the base on Dantooine and _personally_ caused the deaths of all of those men and women? It was _her _fault? She swallowed thickly.

"Why," Padmé began in a low voice, held back tears evident from the uncontrollable vibrato in her voice, "did you wait a _year _to finally destroy it?"

The Emperor did not answer, but merely laughed maniacally. It made even the strong-willed ex-Senator flinch. Who knew how the man's mind really worked? He was sick and twisted. Who could possibly answer Padmé's question other than Palpatine himself? He apparently did not wish to answer.

"Vader."

"Yes, master?"

"Take the Senator to her..." the Emperor paused dramatically, "_quarters_."

If Padmé knew anything about the Emperor, it was that _quarters_ was code for prison cell.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I finally finished the very first chapter of my very first re-write! Yay! I really hope you enjoyed it, but _please_, don't beg me to write another chapter right away. I can't pull stuff like this out of my ass _and_ make it good. Please, just be patient. …And, if you're all not reading this because you angry at me for not posting in so long and have decided to boycott me… well now I feel dumb for that little speech… xD

By the way, this has not been edited by anyone else. All mistakes are all me, so please tell me if you see something overwhelmingly stupid. I plan on starting the next chapter right away. Oh, and please tell me whether you like this better than the original, unless you've never read the original… then ignore me.

Much love, Katie


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